Sparklers
by Savasta 101
Summary: Draco wasn't sure why kissing Pansy felt so wrong, until the soft lips of Harry Potter were pressed against his.


Draco beamed at his reflection in the mirror - his mother would've killed him. Black ripped jeans and a band t shirt made him feel appropriately degenerate, as Draco quietly left through the back entrance, and jumped the gate; sharp thorns prickling his skin.  
The skate park was thirty minutes from his house, and mansions gave way to identical middle class suburbia dotted with shopping centers and newsagents.  
Older women sniffed in disapproval at his appearance, and Draco held back a snort of laughter, then exited the bus, and wobbled slightly unevenly as he skated through crowds along the highstreet.  
At last he reached the skate park: a few ramps scrawled with graffiti, and patches of dead grass. A large crowd of boys kicked at a smaller mass at their feet, and Draco winced in response.  
He would later be unable to explain why he did it. Draco moved on a mixture of adrenalin and nerves, as fist met the ringleader's chubby nose, and a fountain of blood spurted.  
The crowd around them parted. "Fight," chanted a rat-like boy, as a massive fist swung at Draco. He ducked, but not in time, and fell in a tumble of limbs.  
The bundle of clothes unsteadily rose from the floor, and tugged Draco up alongside them. "Run," he hissed, then stuck a foot out, just in time for the massive boy charging at them to trip over it.  
They sprinted like hell, angry bellows echoing after them, and ducked behind a trash can as a stampede of feet crashed past.  
"Draco." he said with a grin, hand extended.  
"Harry." replied the smaller boy, then stalked off. Draco flushed with anger. "You don't have to be so rude. I did just save you -" his tirade was broken off by incredulous laughter, as Harry turned to face him.  
"That was my cousin and his gang, I'm going home to a hell of a lot worse than if I'd let them beat me up." Draco didn't know what to say to that, and he stood spluttering until the boy - Harry - took pity on him.  
"It's not your fault. Just ... don't do it again." Harry said tiredly, running a hand through rumpled black hair. His whole appearance was rumpled, if Draco were honest, from oversized hoodie to trailing laces to ugly, coke bottle glasses.  
"Again?" parroted Draco with a grin. "So I'll see you again?"  
A strangely vulnerable expression crossed Harry's face, as he spoke. "Like a friend?"  
"Yeah," said Draco eagerly, because he'd never had a friend his father hadn't introduced him to.  
He was greeted with a hesitant smile. "I'd like that." said Harry at last.  
The met outside train stations and parks: made fun of Dudley, Harry's oaf of a cousin, and pointedly didn't mention the angry bruises visible whenever Harry's sleeve rode up.  
Draco's parents didn't care where he went, so long as he turned up for his father's dinner parties.  
Pansy cared, however. Cared enough to pull him aside in the corridor, and ask Draco where the hell he went after school. "None of your bloody business." he snapped, and Pansy stalked off.  
She pulled him into an empty classroom one break. "Is it a girlfriend?" she snarled, sounding hurt, for a reason Draco couldn't fathom. "Wha- No." said Draco with a snort of laughter at the thought of Harry as his girlfriend. The laughter faded when the thought brought a strange, tingling feeling to his belly.  
Pansy unbuttoned the top of her school shirt. "Good," she said with a flip of her hair, and then she was leaning closer, and brushing glossed lips against his.  
Draco's eyes went wide in shock, as he pushed her away. It felt wrong. Pansy was a too high voice, caked on makeup, and a skirt that showed more than Draco ever wanted to see. Wrong.  
Harry on the other hand was slim, lithe, and hair just long enough to wrap his fingers round - Draco was jerked from his reverie by the sound of Pansy's sobs as she slammed the door shut. He noted absently that her lipstick was smeared.  
Draco told Harry that night, and was stared at incredulously. "So you felt nothing?" asked Harry, and Draco nodded. "Maybe," he began hesitantly. "I wasn't doing it right."  
Harry's brows furrowed in concentration as he considered the thought, and Draco continued. "Maybe if I had some practice, it would be better next time."  
Before he could convince himself otherwise, Draco was leaning forward as his mouth pecked gently against Harry's. At first the smaller boy was stiff, shocked, but then his lips parted and Draco darted in, and gently swept lazy circles, as Harry moaned against him, and his hands went lower and lower -  
Harry pushed him away, blushing. "Was that ... better?" he asked Draco hesitantly.  
Draco's eyes sparkled. "Much."


End file.
